Your Father's Son
by KrazzeeAJ1701
Summary: Chris has a talk with Jim on his first birthday at Starfleet Academy


I don't know where this came from but here it is.

* * *

When Chris first recruited the walking hurricane that is Jim Kirk, there were two things he instantly understood. One, there's much more going on in the kid's head than he ever lets people see. Two, both his father and his childhood were really touchy subjects. Which, considering how his father died, was understandable.

In the short time he's been at the academy, Chris never felt the need to bring up George Kirk's untimely demise. At least, he never felt the need until Jim's birthday rolled around.

Unlike a lot of people expected him to, Jim didn't hide away or avoid his duties. He went to class with his head held high and smile on his face, ignoring the mountain of comments and questions that the anniversary of his birth and his father's death brought with it, though everyone who actually knew Jim could see the pain lurking behind those bright blue eyes. Still, the kid soldiered through the day, though it was probably the first time any of the other instructors complained to Chris about Jim being too quiet in class.

Since Jim wasn't answering his communicator -Chris had no doubt that he turned it off to avoid the press- and Chris had somehow inherited the responsibility of looking after him, he thought best to stop by the dorms and see how his recruit was doing. When he got there, McCoy, Jim's best friend and roommate let him in, then promptly left them alone.

"I'd ask if you were okay but that's probably a stupid question," he said. Jim looked fine, physically, but Chris, having lost his mother when he was a kid, knew all too well some of what Jim was feeling.

"Press found out where mom's stationed and they haven't stopped calling her since. Reporters aren't as bad as the assholes who keep harassing her with bullshit about George not being fast enough, brave enough or whatever enough to save the whole crew. Doesn't exactly take a rocket scientist to figure out that today is an interesting day in our family."

"Are you okay?" Chris asked.

"It's my birthday. I'm peachy," Jim sighed before he turned to face him. "He would hate all this… hero crap. Least, that's what mom says. She knew him better than anyone, so I'm inclined to take her word for it."

"Is that why it bothers you?" Chris asked carefully.

"What bothers me is that George was twenty-nine years old and people have stripped his life down to the last twelve minutes. Even you did it. That's… that's what bothers me. Everyone thinks I'm sad and upset but the truth is I'm so frustrated that it's not even funny. They think they're honoring him but, really, they're just forgetting who he was. Comparing me to who they _think_ he was. It's just... It's ridiculous. And my mom... I don't know how she does it."

"Well, my mother once told me that a man is measured by moments, small and insignificant. Mundane, even. But those moments are ultimately more telling than any story or grand adventure."

"Exactly," Jim said, smiling. "See, you get it. I mean, yeah, he was a hero but he was also George. He liked to work on old cars. Had a motorcycle, used to drive my mom crazy. He loved math, wasn't as good as mom but she said he did alright. Wasn't half bad at basketball either. And he could hold his own in a fight. Used to lay up and look at the stars at night; we have that one in common. That's who my dad was, not… all of this crap that these people keep putting on him."

"You think you're like him?"

"Hell no," Jim said. "I'm more like my mom. You're like him, though."

"Me?" Chris raised an eyebrow. "You think I'm like your dad?"

"From what I know about him and you? Yeah."

"That's..." He didn't know what to say. Chris had always looked up to George. He took issue with some of his tactical decisions but the man was still very much a hero to him. "Think we'd get along? Me and your old man?"

"Depends. Are you looking after me because I'm his kid or because I'm me?"

"I hate to break it to you, but being his kid is part of who you are, son, it always will be," Chris said. For a long moment, Jim just looked at him, almost like a puzzle he couldn't figure out. "What?"

"Nothing," the kid said with a chuckle. "It's just that… nobody's ever put it quite that way before."

"Well, I'm not like most people."

"I can see that, sir."

"Chris. When it's just us, you can call me Chris."


End file.
